


Dandelion Wishes

by Jude81



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, Wishes, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 15:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11038884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jude81/pseuds/Jude81
Summary: “Why here?”“Because…there is something here. This is where wishes are born.”





	Dandelion Wishes

**Author's Note:**

> So when I was a kid, I used to make wishes on dandelions. Pretty much like every other kid. But I stopped making wishes eventually, and I especially stopped wishing on dandelions. Dandelions became nothing more than obnoxious weeds to me. But someone recently reminded me that dandelions aren't just weeds. They are tea, medicine, and wishes. And the power of a dandelion wish is immeasurable.

_This is the place where wishes are born._

*************************************

She stood in the small field of overgrown weeds and shrubs, the tall grass broken by branches from the tall, gnarled trees, their branches hanging limply over the edges of the field. Buried under the clinging vines and glossy green leaves were rows of crumbling stone and brick, the last vestiges of a world that had died generations ago.

She kicked at some of the broken bits of cobble and mortar, her brow furrowing at the gray dust that poofed lightly into the air, to hang for a moment, before slowly settling. She looked around again. It was ugly, this small scathed field surrounded by crumbling, dusty walls and trees. She supposed it might have been a garden once upon a time before the world burned. She was sure she saw some rose bushes in the weeds, some stones that looked as if they’d been placed there with intent.

She turned slowly around, not sure why Clarke had brought her here to this dying place. She had meetings and ambassadors to attend to, and a fragile coalition held together only by her own sheer will, and she didn’t have the time for foolish romps.

“Clarke?”

Clarke took a deep breath, her hands on her hips, head tilted upwards. Her eyes were closed, and she smiled at the way the sun splashed across her face, warming every part of her. She breathed deeply, almost overwhelmed by the scent of the early morning rain still clinging to the leaves and grass. She could smell the rotting vegetation, the dust from the crumbling buildings, the faintest scent of something sweet clinging to the air around her. Roses, she thought. Or maybe it was honeysuckle.

She had found an old book in Heda’s library that listed flowers and shrubs and trees, their Latin and English names, their uses, even myths surrounding the plants. She’d been trying to identify the plants for weeks now, and she thought she had found many of them. But there was one in particular that she had found that had surprised her, and she had brought Lexa here for just that purpose.

“Clarke, what are we doing here? Not that I don’t want to spend time with you…” Lexa blushed when Clarke turned around to look at her, arching one graceful eyebrow, a small smirk playing about the corners of her mouth.

Their relationship was still new, strange, bewildering…tentative. The Mountain was behind them. The Azgeda Queen’s bones had been picked clean, and Roan crowned King of the North. The Skaikru had finally overthrown Pike in a bloody coup, and some of the clans had established trade treaties with them, but still resentment simmered and burned beneath the surface. She could feel the unrest in the clans, many still believing her weak for revoking _blood must have blood._

And she and Clarke’d had little time to acclimate to the changes in their relationship. It consisted mostly of gentle, passing touches; stolen moments when they lingered in the hallway speaking quietly; and smiles and eye rolls across the table as the ambassadors argued and blustered, pounding their fists on the table, all shouting in an effort to sway Heda.

So even though there were a dozen other ambassadors waiting for her attention, growing more and more angry and foul-tempered each passing day, she’d jumped at the opportunity to take an hour or two away from the chaos of Polis to be with Clarke. But now as she looked around her, she wondered if it would have been better if she’d tried to convince Clarke to stay in Polis, and spend the afternoon together there.

Clarke could see the furrow etched deeply between Lexa’s brows, the dark circles under her eyes, the slight thinness to her frame that hadn’t been there a month ago. She reached out, grabbing Lexa’s hand, tangling their fingers together. She pulled gently, tugging Lexa behind her as she ambled quietly through the field. It was mostly silent, except for the dry grasses catching at their pant legs and crunching under their boots, the occasional crack of a small twig.

It took only a couple minutes to pick their way through the wreckage of the field, until the taller grasses gave way to a carpet of green grass with hundreds of bright yellow blobs bouncing slightly in the small breeze. She cocked her head, trying to remember where she’d seen them before, but when memory failed her, she simply shrugged and put them out of her mind.  

Clarke pulled her down onto a large slab of stone that looked like it had fallen from one of the buildings. She shifted on the rough stone, trying to find a spot that was comfortable, but she soon forgot the rough stone biting into her thighs when Clarke sat down next to her, pressed against her side. The blonde leaned into her, and Lexa carefully wrapped her arm around Clarke’s waist, not clasping too hard, or even firmly. She wasn’t aware that she was holding her breath, until Clarke leaned her head on her shoulder, and she instinctively tightened her arm around Clarke, pulling her tighter into her side.

She sighed quietly, content for the moment. She turned her head and dared to press a kiss against the top of Clarke’s head. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of the soap the girl used. Once upon a time, Clarke had smelled of cold metal and dead stars, but now she smelled of the sun and rain, and the flowers that were in her soap.

“So why are we here?” She didn’t want to break the stillness, the peace that had settled around them, wrapping around her shoulders like a warm fur on the darkest of winter nights, but her curiosity go the better of her.  

Clarke nodded, “this is why,” she gestured at the grass at their feet, smiling at the throng of yellow manes bobbing and swaying lightly in the sea of grass. She turned her expectant gaze up at Lexa.

Lexa frowned thoughtfully, shifting and looking down at Clarke before looking back at the carpet of grass. “What about it?”

Clarke pulled out of Lexa’s arms, smiling when the brunette frowned even harder, her fingers grasping at Clarke’s belt. She patted Lexa’s hands, smiling before pulling away again, and picking her way through the carpet of grass. She picked a few of the yellow flowers, and two other flowers that were grayish white. They looked like fine clouds.

She sat back down, shifting closer to Lexa, nudging the other girl with her shoulder, encouraging her to wrap her arm around her waist again. “See? These yellow ones. I was so curious about them. They look like little blobs of sunshine, a hundred little suns.”

She held them out to Lexa who took them gingerly. She brought them to her nose, frowning at the sharp plant smell. It reminded her vaguely of the smell of a freshly broken green twig. It didn’t smell particularly nice like the flowers in Clarke’s soap.

She frowned as she stared harder at the small plants in her hand, her mind scrambling to grasp a memory that flitted just out of reach. She sighed darkly, looking back at the sea of grass, the long leaves of the little suns. She sniffed again, her memory slowly forming in her mind.

She chuckled. “It’s a weed, Clarke. The leaves it grows in are edible, but they are gross.” She wrinkled her nose, remembering when cook had made her eat them as a child. She handed them back to Clarke, wiping her hand on her pants.

Clarke sighed. “Ok, technically it is a weed, but it is so much more than that.” She smiled at the ones she clasped in her hand. “They are called dandelions. And they are medicine and tea…and wishes,” she whispered.

“Wishes?”

Clarke lifted her eyes, biting at her lower lip. “Wishes.” She held up the two weeds that were gray and white, almost fluffy. “These are also dandelions also. You blow on them and make a wish, and the wind takes the wishes into her keeping. People have been doing it since the dawn of time.”

Lexa frowned as she stared at the weeds in Clarke’s hand. “They look different. They are dead?”

Clarke smiled softly, “No, Lexa. Well…technically. These are the seeds.” She looked up at Lexa, her lips pursed into a plea, “They are full of life, brimming with unspoken wishes. Here.” She handed one to Lexa, “make a wish and blow.”

Lexa shook her head and handed it back to Clarke. “Heda doesn’t make wishes, Clarke.” She shrugged, not quite willing to meet Clarke’s soft gaze.

“And what about Lexa? Does Lexa make wishes?”

Lexa stiffened slightly, licking her lips. She shrugged, looking down at her boots, shuffling them in the dirt and grass. “I stopped making wishes a long time ago, Clarke.” She felt a great well of sadness rise up inside of her, making her belly roil, scorching through her lungs and squeezing her throat harshly.

Clarke nodded, her hand fumbling for Lexa’s. She grasped it tightly, the only lifeline she needed. “It’s ok to want things for yourself, Lexa,” she whispered, shifting closer, their knees knocking together. “It’s ok to make a wish. I promise, Lexa.” She held the dandelion out to Lexa again, silently willing the other girl to take it, to believe just enough to make a wish.

Lexa swallowed hard, her fingers gently clasping the gray, fluffy weed. She smiled, her eyes burning with salt and hope. “Ok, Clarke. A wish for you.”

Clarke shook her head, “No, Lexa, a wish for you.” When the brunette said nothing, just staring down at the crown of the dandelion, the slight breeze picking at each seed; Clarke nodded. “Ok, Lexa, you make a wish for me, and I will make a wish for you.”

Lexa nodded again, her arm tightening around Clarke’s waist as she held the dandelion to her lips. She took a breath, her eyes fluttering closed, and she made a wish. She blew, and her eyes opened slowly, her gaze following the drifting seeds into the air. They looked like little pieces of fuzz and fluff, and she watched as the wind took them into her care.

Clarke smiled, pressing her lips gently against the dandelion, blowing her wish into the wind. And with it, she sent all of her prayers and dreams to take root. She turned and pressed her face into Lexa’s shoulder. She smiled, knowing her wish was already coming true.

“Do you think…I hope…I mean…” her words stuttered past her lips without her permission. She sighed in frustration at her lack of eloquence. She had thought her days of making foolish wishes were done, but with Clarke…for Clarke…she wanted a thousand wishes.

Clarke smiled, pulling away just enough to gaze at Lexa. Her eyes followed the path of her small dainty ear, down the sharp line of her jaw, down the graceful arch of her neck. She licked her lips, mouth suddenly dry.

“Yes, my love.” She ducked her head, pressing her face into the warm, coarse fabric of Lexa’s vest. She could feel Lexa’s sharp inhale at her words, and she grinned, tears forming in her eyes when the older woman pressed her cheek against the top of Clarke’s head, and wrapped her other arm around Clarke.

The vest scratched lightly at the delicate skin of her lips and nose, but she didn’t care. She could smell Lexa on it, the slightly musky sweat from the other girl, the wind and sharp scent of pine that she would always associate with Lexa. She inhaled deeply, wrapping her arm around Lexa’s waist, her other hand bunching the front of the brunette’s shirt at her waist. She wanted to stay here, never leave the peace and quiet, the reassuring warmth of Lexa’s lean body pressed against her own. She managed to pull herself away, lifting her head, only to bump it against the older girl’s chin.

She smiled weakly, flushing slightly when Lexa chuckled. “Sorry,” she muttered, her gaze tangling with Lexa’s. She was sure she stopped breathing when Lexa’s eyes widened, the older girl’s eyes darkening to match the small glossy leaves and vines that twined around the broken stones at their feet. And when Lexa bit her lip, Clarke was gone. She fell so hard and fast, the air whooshing from her lungs, her heart pounding in her ears, and before she could even murmur Lexa’s name, Lexa’s lips were pressing against her own.

It wasn’t their first kiss, but it still felt like a beginning, a wish come true, a dream taking root.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?


End file.
